


Planes

by your_friendly_neighborhood_fan_author



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: BAMF Webby Vanderquack, Brotherly Love, Declarations Of Love, F/M, First Kiss, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I have no idea what it's supposed to be, Idiots in Love, If someone knows, Louie's the only one to call her Webbs, OTP Feels, What exactly IS Don Karnage's accent?, You can pry this ship from my cold dead hands, please tell me, seriously, tell me that isn't adorable, you can't cause it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:20:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24044284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/your_friendly_neighborhood_fan_author/pseuds/your_friendly_neighborhood_fan_author
Summary: Louie hated planes. The knowledge that, at any time, you could fall thousands of feet to your death terrified him.  But there is one person that makes him scared in a very different, and arguably much worse way.That would be one Webbigail Vanderquack. The woman he had fallen helplessly in love with.But, when danger strikes, it will be up to Louie alone to save his family and the girl of his dreams from certain doom at the hands of the maniacal Dread Pirate Don Karnage.
Relationships: Dewey Duck & Huey Duck & Louie Duck, Dewey Duck & Webby Vanderquack & Launchpad McQuack & Louie Duck & Huey Duck, Louie Duck & Webby Vanderquack, Louie Duck/Webby Vanderquack
Comments: 4
Kudos: 47





	Planes

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this in January, it was supposed to be a Valentine's Day treat, but obviously that didn't work out. So enjoy this piece!

Louie hated planes. The knowledge that, at any time, you could fall thousands of feet to your death terrified him. And his personal experiences with air travel certainly didn’t help either. From the constant crashes Launchpad subjected him to, to the rocket that had almost melted apart when they attacked Lunaris, to the Spear of Selene that had taken away his mother for ten years. But what had especially turned him off to the entire concept, was a three thousand foot fall from the Sunchaser, with only an ottoman to accompany him on his fall to guaranteed death. 

That was about six years ago. Somehow he managed to survive the ordeal, but how he hated the very thought of planes after that. And of course the terrible experiences just kept stacking on top of one another. New bad memories, new traumatizing brushes with death, it was frankly awful. 

His crippling fear of planes, and heights mostly gave him nothing but ridicule from his air-faring family, and a disadvantage in any airborne adventure. However, it did offer him one positive thing. 

An excuse to hold Webby’s hand. 

Louie had been crushing on his friend for four? No, five months. It was awkward at first- well, it was still awkward, but at least he came to terms with his feelings. There was nothing worse than that first month, not realising his strange new emotions for what they were. Instead, trying to figure out just why he kept finding himself staring at her, laughing too much at her jokes, and unable to look her in the eyes without a heat rising to his face. 

Or maybe the worst part was when he became aware that he was crushing on Webby. And the subsequent realisation that his feelings would never go anywhere, not with how there were at the moment. For duck’s sake they probably barely counted as friends, much less anything more. 

So the last three months had been spent trying his damndest to improve his relationship with Webby. His chances with her romantically were still very slim, but at the very least their friendship would be better, after all, he was doing his best. He got a job as a part time accountant in the money bin, cataloguing treasure, he tries to lie as little as possible, and he completely put a stop to all of his current and future schemes. 

Except for one. 

That being the ludicrous contrivances he made to be physically close to her. He hugged her after each successful treasure hunt, he went on life threatening adventures that his brothers skipped out on just to spend some time with her, and he would even race to the couch just so that he could sit next to her. Then of course, there was the whole hand-holding thing.

To be fair, he didn’t actually start that one, or even do it on purpose. Webby and Louie were strapped in next to one another during one of Launchpad’s trademark turbulence-filled flights. He was gripping the arms of his chair in a death hold, yelling about how they were all going to die. In hindsight it was a very embarrassing thing to do in front of Webby, the bravest person he knew, but at the time he wasn’t putting any of his mental capacity towards that. 

Anyway, there he was, screaming his head off when suddenly, his hand wasn’t grabbing onto a seat arm anymore, instead it was wrapped in a warm, firm grip, and Louie felt himself take a deep breath and his heartbeat slowed in relaxation, he looked down at his hand, and found it intertwined with that of Webby’s. 

Needless to say, his heart rate spiked again, but this time for a completely different and much better reason. He declined to say anything, afraid that she would pull away. But when his eyes rose to meet her own, she smiled, and half-shrugged, giving his hand a small squeeze. They sat that way for several hours, until their plane ride came to a sudden halt with a Launchpad patented crash. 

His eyes were closed out of pure instinct, until a hand pulled him up and out of his seat. He opened his eyes and was once again met with the lightning blue eyes of Webby. She let go of his hand, and he thought that was the end of it, as Scrooge ushered everyone off the plane. However, on the way back too, she took his hand again, and he sat a bit more comfortably than before, but still fairly nervously on Louie’s part.

But, over the weeks, it turned into a regular thing, they would gear up for takeoff, and the two would intertwine their hands together, through the whole journey. Then at the end, Webby would show him that it was all okay, and safe to let go.

That’s exactly what they were doing when it happened. 

\------------------------------------------------------~oOo~--------------------------------------------------------------

They were sitting side by side, hand in hand, conversing about nothing in particular. Since the first time, they had gotten far more confident, and relaxed, spending the plane trip talking and getting to know one another better. He was in his usual attire of a plain zip-up forest green hoodie, a little cramped in the seat. In six years he had grown taller and skinnier than either of his brothers, including tufts of feathers similar to his great uncle’s on the sides of his face. Webby had of course changed too, though she was the shortest of the four, she was the strongest by a ridiculous amount, her biceps visible even under the loose pink button up shirt she wore, still sporting her classic purple skirt, having abandoned the vest sometime ago, and voluminous hair that usually reached a few inches below her shoulders, tied up into a ponytail with her signature pink bow.

The adventure they were on itself was a simplistic one, go to the deep jungles of South America, lay claim to a large topaz that resided there, and leave. It was just the four and Launchpad. Della, Donald, Daisy and Scrooge decided to sit the voyage out.

“And so I attacked him with a razor, shaving off patches of fur-” Louie’s story was interrupted by a deafening explosion.

The air around them all rushed toward what had to be a hole in the plane. Webby leapt up, and grabbed onto the railing, making her way toward the source of the damage. And despite his common sense to the otherwise, Louie followed her.

They reached the hole in the plane, as a shadow descended over the plane, casting the interior in shade. It only took one glance out a window or in Louie’s case, the gaping hole in the side of the plane, to see exactly what was casting the shade. It was the Iron Vulture.

“Don Karnage? What is he doing here?” Louie asked, he hadn’t seen the pirate or his ship since he took all of his money, and he and the rest of the villain crew flew away in the very same plane. 

“Um, well i might have run into him a few times getting my flying hours in, and uh, he probably is here to kill me.” Dewey offered, and got a few glares from the rest of the family.

“And you chose now to tell us?!” Huey demanded, despite his silly broadway singing nature, Karnage was dangerous. He had almost killed them all six years ago, Dewey especially. Despite his tendencies towards musical theatre, Karnage wasn’t a foe to be easily trifled with. 

As expected however, smaller drone planes descended from the Iron Vulture, a light roar becoming louder from the propellers of the biplanes. Webby drew her grappling hook and tightened her fist, Huey tucked his guide under his hat and cracked his knuckles, as Dewey drew a cutlass from his hip, and Louie unsheathed his golden khopesh. These ducks didn’t back down, at least not without a fight.

It didn’t take Karnage’s crew long to jump through the hole in the ship, and the fight broke out properly. On the bright side, at least Launchpad had the common sense to stay in the cockpit this time. Huey raised his fists, punching and flying at the pirates, a red blur of fury, his only weapon being his anger, and Webby grappled around them, tripping up pirates, and stealing swords, throwing them out the hole in the plane. All while Dewey and Louie went sword to sword with the crew, fighting off several pirates at once, slashing and parrying with expert skill. 

It was all going fairly well, there were at least a dozen pirates, but their numbers were dwindling as more and more of them fell to the ground. That is until Captain Karnage himself made an appearance. He jumped into the plane with his usual flamboyant nature, taking an immediate swipe at Dewey’s neck, who had to drop to the ground to avoid it. 

“Dewey Duck, you have escaped me for the last time!” he decreed, mercilessly swinging at Dewey, who desperately parried and attempted to fight off the foe. Dewey and Louie were gifted swordsmen, learning partially from Della and Donald, and mostly from first hand, life-threatening situations. But the point was that they didn’t exactly have any official training, and Karnage had years of experience fighting. Dewey was doing well, but he was being worn down, his sword blocking Karnage’s with less and less force, not even bothering to put in his own swings at this point, just trying to keep himself alive.

Louie saw it coming from a mile away, the sluggish movements of his brother, the unrelentless ones of Karnage, the wide swing heading directly towards his brother’s stomach, making to slice a wide opening in it.

“Dewey, look out!” Louie screamed, and Dewey, the dolt, didn’t dodge but turned to look at Louie. Still it worked, instead of delivering the fatal blow, Karnages blade sliced across Dewey’s right shoulder, the flowing blood staining his navy blue muscle shirt. Louie leapt between the two, allowing Dewey to stagger off as he faced Karnage, khopesh glinting.

What transpired next happened in a blur, as Louie barely avoided a slew of fast paced, potentially fatal blows from Karnage, and he dropped to the ground, rolling in order to avoid his deadly swings. Louie scrambled to his knees, and narrowly blocked another strike with his khopesh, quickly attempting to perform a disarming twist on Karnage’s blade. It was immediately reversed on him, the golden blade spinning and embedding  
itself in the metal hull of the plane, a good ten feet or so behind him. 

Karnage smirked and backed away, this wasn’t the duck he wanted to kill today. But he had a good idea on how to deliver death onto Dewey. He delivered a swift kick to the green one’s face, knocking him backwards, sliding across the ground, and finally coming to a stop as his head hit the wall. 

“Louie!” Webby shouted as his head hit the metal, distracting for just long enough that one of Karnage’s disarmed cronies got in a lucky hit, knocking her down to the floor with a fist to the side of her beak. Then as soon as she was down, another pirate hit the back of her head with the pommel of his blade, knocking her out cold.

Karnage glanced over and smiled, his crew had done surprisingly well, they had both the red one and the girl incacipated. Karnage signaled his crew to carry out the next stage of the operation, and strolled down the hallway towards the cockpit. He slunk into the control room, and snuck up behind the large pilot. He swiftly grabbed the back of the pilot’s head, and slammed it into the control panel repeatedly, until bright red blood smeared the metal and the pilot slumped out of the chair and to the ground. He took the liberty of setting the vehicle on a new course toward the ground and leaving something for the Duck clan before he strutted out of the room, heading back to the hole in the plane. He leapt out of the plane with complete confidence, abandoning the few crew members that had been defeated in battle and landed on one of his drone biplanes, flying back into the gaping maw of the Iron Vulture. 

His eyes twinkled maliciously as he surveyed the hangar of his massive airship, his crew had tied up the unconcious girl and gagged her. Dewey Duck would come to him, seeking the girl and revenge, and when he did, Karnage’s long-hated adversary would finally meet his fate. But first, he would have to survive the little present Karnage left for him.

\------------------------------------------------------~oOo~--------------------------------------------------------------

Dewey ran toward the cockpit, clutching his right shoulder, the plane was going down. Not straight down, but if they didn’t pull up soon they would all die. He stumbled into the room, and only gave a second’s worry toward the unconscious Launchpad before he rushed toward the controls and grabbing the throttle, desperately bringing it back towards him, trying to pull the plane back up.

However, as soon as he brought the stick back, an explosion rocked the plane, and smoke filled the view outside. Dewey rushed to the side port windows, and just as he feared, the action had set off an explosion that took out three out of four of their engines. He frantically rushed to the pilot’s seat and shut off the remaining engine, they wouldn’t be any good with a lopsided thrust, he needed to glide the bird down. 

He desperately went to work, flipping up the slats and flaps, attempting to slow down their landing. They descended with alarming speed, and it was clear they were going to crash. So Dewey was left with an inevitable choice he didn’t want to make. He ran into the thick rainforest that resided below, crashing into tree after tree, slowly screeching to a halt as thick branches dented the metal, and shattered the glass around him, sending debris flying. He didn’t see the massive tree until it was too late, and the nose of the Sunchaser made direct contact with the bark, sending Dewey straight into the abrasive wood.

\------------------------------------------------------~oOo~--------------------------------------------------------------

Louie opened his eyes blearily as blinding beams of sunlight streamed onto his face. His head throbbed with pain and every muscle in his body ached. He groaned and rolled on his side, right before he remembered. Webby! They had gotten Webby.

He bolted upright, ignoring all the pain. Ignoring the fact that his head was swimming, that his left arm throbbed with pain running through it like a live wire, and the warm trickle of blood he could feel running down the back of his head. He forced himself to his feet. He waited a moment for the distortion of his vision to cease before he looked around the scattered remains of the plane, there were scraps of dark red metal everywhere that contrasted heavily against the lush green of the surrounding jungle, not to mention the small fires that had sprung up around the area.

But he paid that no mind, desperately searching the area for his brothers. He couldn’t see Huey or Launchpad anywhere, but he saw the place Dewey landed instantly. Tears began to fill his eyes as he ran toward the massive trunk of the tree.

The front half of the plane was rammed into the trunk, nose crumpled where it touched wood. But what scared the living hell out of Louie was where the bark was stained a dark red, a blotch leading down the tree and onto the nose of the plane and trailing off the metal, leading down to…

“Oh god.” Louie gasped, finally seeing his crumpled brother on the jungle floor.

Dewey was covered in blood, a large gash in his head leaking copious amounts of red, and the rest of him wasn’t much better, scratches and cuts dominated his body, but his leg was particularly grotesque, it was bent at a completely wrong angle at if Louie looked closely, he was pretty sure he could see a small, jagged, red stained nub of bone.

Louie resisted the urge to gag, as he racked his brain desperately for something Huey would say in this situation. Dammit, he had nothing. Why the hell hadn’t he listened when his brother was telling him about emergency first aid?!

He needed help and he needed it now. 

“HUEY!!!! LAUNCHPAD!!! WHERE ARE YOU!!!” He screamed into the opressingly silent jungle, several birds scattering into the air as he desperately pressed his hand to Dewey’s chest and his ear right outside his beak.

He listened for a moment, holding his breath, waiting for any sign. And then he felt it, a small thump against his hand, a tinny whistle of air in his ear. Thank god. He was still alive, but it was clear that he was barely hanging on.

“HUEY!!!” He screamed again, looking for any form of response as he moved away from his brother.

“Louie? Is that you?” A weak voice came from the underbrush and Huey came stumbling out, limping toward him, hat missing, shirt featuring massive gashes and what looked to be burn marks, not to mention the right side of his face that was bruised and swollen, pulsing a sickly yellow.

“Hue? Huey?!” Louie ran over to him, putting one of his older brother’s arms over his shoulder and helping him toward where Dewey was, sitting him down.

“Oh no, Dewey.” Huey gasped out as Louie let him down onto his knees. Huey winced as he made contact with the ground but didn’t let out any noise, just hovering over the middle triplet.

“I know, I know Huey. But I need you to think, what can I do for Dewey?” Louie insisted, pushing Huey back to rest on the sloped metal of the crashed plane.

“I need you to grab me-”

“No. You’re in no condition, just guide me on what I need to do.”

“I’m in no condition!” Huey half-yelled, red glinting in his eyes as he scanned over Louie’s standing form.  
“You probably have a concussion, several impact bruises, a gash on your face, and judging by the way you’re cradling your arm, it’s probably sprained if not broken!”

“Okay, I get it, but I don’t need you making whatever it is that’s making you limp from getting worse. One hurt brother is enough, I don’t need another! Now guide me through it.” Louie growled, his steely gaze meeting Huey’s slightly enraged eyes, until the red drained from them and he let out a deep sigh.

“Alright. The best thing we can do for him is stop the bleeding on his head with a piece of clean cloth, or as clean as we can get it. Also we need to make sure that his leg stays immobilized, and bleeds as little as possible. So we need to make sure that when he wakes up, that he doesn’t panic and start thrashing around, also it would be beneficial to make some form of tourniquet. But what’s most important is that we don’t touch the bone, don’t move it or anything.” Huey instructed, taking deep breaths and doing his absolute best to keep a level head.

“Alright.” Louie confirmed looking around him, there wasn’t exactly an abundance of bandage material about, there was either the leaves of the jungle, which could easily infect the wound or their own clothes, which were either torn or covered in dirt. Except… 

Louie threw off his hoodie, and grabbed the material firmly, ripping the threads apart, leaving a jagged edge as he tore off both sleeves. He turned them inside out as he slipped the now sleeveless jacket back on. The inside of the sleeves were not spotless, having been stained with several patches of drying blood. It wasn’t perfect, but it was the best they had.

He ran back over to his brother and wrapped the first sleeve around his head, stemming the flow of blood onto his neck. He then took the other sleeve and tied it just above the compound fracture, making the knot as tight as he possibly could. There was nothing they could particularly do about the gash in his shoulder, and fortunately for them, it had already clotted. 

“What do we do now?” Louie asked, looking back up at Huey.

“Dewey needs real medical attention, and the only way to get that is if we activate a distress beacon, or somehow get in contact with a rescue team.” Huey winced as he shifted his weight.

“Launchpad had a satellite phone with him. But I haven’t seen him at all.” Louie stated, looking around the crash site for anything else they could use.

“Me neither.” Huey also looked around. “But I don't think there’s anything else, there’s no way the radio in the plane still works.” 

“So we have to find him. I’ll be back.” Louie nodded at his brother and got to his feet, walking toward the scattered pieces that used to compose the rest of the plane, following the furrow in the ground. As he walked, he noticed the darkening atmosphere, in the canopy it was almost impossible to see the sun, but by the darkness descending and the dropping temperature, Louie could tell that the sun was setting. He had to do this fast. 

He had gone on for quite a while, maybe even half an hour when he saw it. The majority of the carcass of the Sunchaser. Louie jogged toward it, going around the massive pieces of plane wings that had no doubtedly been clipped by the massive trees surrounding the scorched area.

But it wasn’t until he reached the true back of the plane, fins still attached when he saw something truly worrying. Lying on the ground, next to his still intact gold and steel compound khopesh, was a pirate. Louie approached cautiously, first snatching up his blade and attaching it to his torn hoodie so that the adversary didn’t have a weapon nearby. 

He then bent down, getting on his knees and grabbing the pirate’s hand, checking the wrist for a pulse. There was none.

Louie got to his feet, bowing his head respectfully for a second at the corpse, before moving on. The next body he came across was actually two bodies, another lanky pirate and Launchpad, not five feet apart from one another. The pilot wasn’t in that terrible of shape all considered, just covered in dirt and with a head covered in blood, because apparently everyone hit their heads in this crash.

“Launchpad? Launchpad, wake up!” Louie rushed to his brother’s best friend’s side. He was undoubtedly alive, barrel chest rising and falling with life. His eyes opened slowly and blearily, unfocused pupils not seeming to see Louie, eyes staring off into empty space.  
“Launchpad! You need to get up!” He yelled, and the pilot seemed to finally notice his existence, well, kind’ve.

“Burritos.” The pilot got to his feet, looking dead ahead, his voice laced with unflinching seriousness. “DW needs burritos.”

“Uhh, sure.” Louie shrugged, damn he must have hit his head really hard. He shook his head, grabbing the pilot’s hand and dragging him toward where Huey and Dewey were. They walked for a few steps as Louie searched the pilot’s pockets, eventually finding the bulky yellow plastic of the satellite phone. It looked fairly unharmed, but they wouldn’t know for sure until they used it. He shoved it into his pocket and was about to continue, until he thought just to make sure that the other pirate was truly dead.

He left Launchpad standing in his strange stupor and checked the body of the other pirate, unlike the other cold, pulseless pirate, this one was warm, sported a steady pulse and his chest moved up and down with air. Louie’s hand instinctively found the handle of his sword, almost pulling it out of where cold metal touched his feathers. He should end this pirate’s life right now, he was partially responsible for Huey, Dewey, Webby. God, Webby. He had no idea what Karnage could be doing to her. He knew she could take care of herself, but just the very thought of the canine marauder touching one single feather on her made his blood boil with rage to match his uncle’s. But his hand left the hilt of the blade. He couldn’t kill him, not yet. He might yet prove useful.

He cut down several vines from the surrounding trees and bound the pirate’s hands and legs together, and after a moment of consideration, put a few in his mouth, gagging him, then finally dragging him over to Launchpad. Thankfully the pirate was light, and Louie could drag him with his good, right arm as he led Launchpad with his worse left one.

It didn’t take them much time to reach the place where Huey was, though Louie’s arm was quite sore from dragging the lanky pirate. Huey had gathered several chunks of wood and set them ablaze, having quite the decent sized fire when they approached the campsite.

“Huey! I thought I told you not to move around!?” Louie barked at seeing his brother tending to the campfire.

“Shh.” Huey whisper-shouted, gesturing to Dewey. “You’re gonna wake him up.”

“What?” Louie whispered back, leaving the pirate a few dozen feet from the campfire and guiding Launchpad toward the fire, making him sit near Dewey.

“You found Launchpad.” Huey acknowledged, a small smile now adorning his beak. “Well, Dewey woke up while you were gone, he was freaked out, but I managed to calm him down, and to shake any effects of shock, I started this fire since I needed to keep him warm, but didn’t exactly have any shock blankets.” He explained, poking at the fire as the last rays of the setting sun warmed the area. “Any luck on the phone?”

“Yeah.” Louie pulled the device out of his pocket and handed it to his brother. “I thought it looked in pretty good shape, but I wasn’t sure.”

“Yes, it looks fine, but there’s only one real way to find out.” Huey stated, echoing what Louie thought earlier, and dialing a number on the phone. “Come on, pick up, pick up.” Huey willed the phone, and the other end picked up, as they spoke Louie could only hear Huey’s voice talking.  
“Uncle Donald, is that you?”  
“We were attacked, Karnage, he ambushed us. The Sunchaser crashed, and ....Dewey's hurt, it’s not good.”  
“I know.”  
“No, I have no idea, this place has absolutely nothing unique except our crash.”  
“I understand.”  
“No, we’ll hold out, just- get here as fast as you can.”  
“I know. I love you too.”

A long beep sounded as the other line went dead and Louie’s brow was knit with concern.

“They have no idea where we are, do they?” He asked, staring at the unconscious forms of Dewey and Launchpad.

“No. And they can’t accurately trace us through the phone. But they are flying out to the area that Karnage is sighted the most, between that and their rough idea on where the temple we were looking for is. Best casernario, we’re looking at twenty-four hours, maybe less.” Huey explained, adding some more wood to the flickering flames.

“Alright, alright.” Louie muttered, transfixed by his own thoughts. “So what’s our plan to rescue Webby?”

“What?” Huey looked up from the flames.

“She’s in the Iron Vulture, we need to get her back.” Louie explained as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Which, to him, it was.

“Louie we have no way of reaching Karnage, and even if we did, we didn’t stand a chance against him last time. We have to wait until the rest of the family gets here, and then save her.” Huey shot back.

“What!? Webby is up in that deathtrap, with Karnage doing who knows what to her and you just want to wait!?” Louie yelled.

“Well what is your plan? Huh!?” Huey waited for a second, waiting for Louie to say anything. “You don’t have one, because there isn’t one that can exist. There isn’t a way to save her, so the best thing we can do is wait here until we can.”

“Fine.” Louie conceded, laying down near the fire on the opposite side of his friends and brothers. He closed his eyes, and evened out his breathing, pretending to sleep, as his brain formulated a dozen plans to free Webby.

He waited until he could hear soft snores that he recognized as Huey’s before his eyes snapped open. He loved Huey and he usually trusted him on these sorts of things. But the fact was that he didn’t have all the information. Louie had almost told him about the pirate he had practically captured, but he knew how he would feel about what Louie was about to do. 

Louie got to his feet, making sure that his khopesh was secure, his eyes sweeping over the three. Dewey hadn’t stirred even the tiniest amount, deathly still except the small movement of his chest. Huey was out cold, lying on the ground, absently mouthing something in his sleep as he snored. Then his eyes drifted over to Launchpad, and the youngest triplet froze. The pilot’s eyes were half-open and he was definitely looking at Louie.

“Launchpad?” He whispered, hoping against hope that the pilot was still delirious. 

“Louie, tell Mr. McDee goodnight for me.” He mumbled out.

“I will.” Louie gave a small, sad smile to the pilot as he blinked slowly, obviously about to nod off. “And Launchpad?” The pilot perked back up. “If I don’t come back, tell them I’m sorry.” Louie instructed as the large man’s eyes fell completely closed as his head dropped onto his shoulder and he let out a loud snore.

Louie nodded at the unconscious man before picking up a stick from the fire, only half of it was ablaze, allowing him to hold it as a torch. He moved past the campsite, and toward the gouge he had followed before. There, he found what he was looking for.

The pirate was still here, albeit awake, and struggling against his plant-based bounds, trying to let out any sort of noise, but all of it came out as muffled, unintelligible noise. Louie picked up his feet and began to drag him once more, going down the trail, torch in one hand and his captive in the other.

It took a while, but they eventually reached the place where he had originally found the pirate. He figured that if he couldn’t hear Dewey from here, then Huey shouldn’t be able to hear what he’s about to do.

“Here’s the deal.” Louie propped the pirate up against a piece of wreckage. “I’m going to remove that gag, and when I do you better not scream or shout, or give away our position, if you do, you die.” Louie stuck the torch into the ground next to him and unsheathed his khopesh and held it at the pirate’s throat for emphasis. “Got it?”

The pirate nodded slowly. He didn’t seem that afraid, but he will be.  
Louie removed the gag of vines and the pirate spat several times into the ground.

“That was foul.” He snarled, glaring at Louie.

“I want you to tell me where the Iron Vulture lands, where does it dock?” Louie ignored the pirate’s complaints, and held the edge of the blade closer to the man’s jugular.

“And why would I do that?” The pirate growled, but this is what Louie was expecting.

“Because every minute that you don’t, I’m going to remove a piece of your body, fingers, feet, the works. Now you might think you can endure that long enough to just bleed out from the wounds I give you. But, that’s why I’ve brought this.” He gestured to the torch. “So that every time a piece of you comes off, I can burn the flesh that’s left, sealing the wound. I do wonder if you’ve ever smelled burning flesh, it’s quite unpleasant.” Louie smirked in the pirate’s face. “So, I’ll ask again, where does the Vulture land?”

“Go to hell.” The pirate cursed, spitting at Louie. The glob landed on his face, and Louie wiped it off, still smirking.

“Have it your way.” He shrugged. “But I am a man of my word, so which would you prefer first? The left eye?” He hovered the tip of the blade right above the widening pupil. “Or perhaps the right?” Louie brought the edge even closer to his right, until the pirate’s will finally broke and he closed his eyes feverently, trying to take his precious eyes as far away from the sword as possible.

“Alright! Alright! I’ll tell you!” Louie brought his sword down, but still holding it at the ready, waiting. “The Vulture usually lands at an isolated plateau, only a dozen or so miles west from here, it’s a sheer white cliff, the only one like it in the entire jungle!” The pirate blurted out, keeping his eyes clenched shut for the whole time he spoke.

“Thank you.” Louie slashed the blade across the pirate’s throat, splitting open his windpipe, blood spilling onto the ground as the now gasping man fell to the ground. He was dead within the moment.

Louie took a deep breath, cleaning the blood off his sword. That was the first non monster/alien life he had ever taken. He almost couldn’t believe it, almost couldn’t think that he had just killed a man. But the now still corpse on the ground and the blood covering his blade disagreed. He gagged, almost feeling sick. 

But now was not the time for that, now was the time to save Webby.

He took the torch from the ground and plunged it into the dirt, extinguishing the flame and casting away the hot stick into the underbrush, and sheathing the khopesh into his hoodie once more. He began walking with newfound determination and drive, striding toward the place where the sun had set an hour or two before.

The jungle was thankfully fairly flat, though riddled with roots and fallen tree branches that Louie stumbled over before his eyes adjusted to the darkness. After that it was just hours of walking in the same direction, hoping that the pirate had told him the truth about just where he could find the Vulture.

The sun eventually rose behind Louie, warming his back as he continued to walk, stepping over pieces of wood and doing his best not to be attacked by any sort of wild animal. He was still trying to wrap his mind around what he had done, he had almost tortured that pirate and then he actually killed him. He would do anything for Webby, but murder?

He shook off the thoughts, it’s not like the Duck-McDuck Clan, plus Webbs hadn’t both seen and been involved in more than their fair share in death. Scrooge, Donald, his mother had all killed countless monsters, demons, and yeah even regular people. They had sentenced Lunaris to a slow, painful death, they had killed a large number of aliens when the moon invaded, not to mention the danger they put Duckburg in almost on a daily basis. And trust him, after what she had put the family, Webby especially, through, he would gladly kill Magica any day of the week.

Just as he shook himself out of his deep seated thoughts, he noticed the massive natural structure in the distance. It was just the way the pirate had described, a massive plateau, with one sheer side that was pure, chalk white. The rest of it wasn’t exactly an easy slope either, the rest of the circular column of rock was jagged, sharp stones the tiniest of inclines leading up hundreds of feet til the flat top.

And Louie Duck was going to climb it.

He walked about the plateau, taking note of the near vertical white cliffs. Finally, he found his entry point.

It wasn’t much different from the rest of the plateau, except for the important distinction that it sported several large rocks at the very bottom of it. They were white, like the rest of it, and presumably crumbled off of the face of the rock. It was just enough for Louie.

He climbed up onto the small boulders, getting up a few feet and hopped over to a rock, right next to the cliff face. Louie rolled his shoulders, cracking his hands, getting ready for what was going to follow. 

He gripped a piece of stone that jutted out, and hoisted himself up, able to rest one foot upon the fairly large outcrop. And so he continued, using his gift for seeing the angles to his advantage, spotting and utilizing the narrowest of hand and foot holds, with nothing but his determination driving him up the near sheer rock face. 

It was only when he was not four feet from the top, wind whistling about his ears, whipping at his hoodie, when he reached upward to grab another handhold, but when he put his weight on it, it instantly crumbled, sending shards of white rock careening down the face as Louie’s feet lost purchase. He dangled in the middle of the air, his only salvation being the small hold that he gripped to with all his might as he was finally forced to look down. 

He had intentionally kept his eyes averted from that direction, knowing what it would do to him, but now he had no choice as he saw just how high up he really was. The ground seemed further and further away with every second that he looked at it, lush green stretching away from him, distorting as his heart and breath quickened to unbearable levels.  
It was almost an out of body experience. Like he was a simple spirit or ghost watching as his body hung there, almost despondent. And absently, at the very back of his mind, he registered the feeling of his fingers slipping off the face of the rock. He was about to fall, and there was nothing he could do about it. He was going to die here.

No. No he wasn’t. He still had a mission to do, and he couldn’t stop until he completed it.

And just like that, he regained control of his body, eyes filled with newfound courage. He used the last of his strength to propel himself up, letting go of the rock. The second seemed to go in slow motion as he leapt upward, reaching upward frantically, hands finding the very edge of the cliff. 

He held onto the new hold desperately, his feet scrabbling against the rock, trying to find foot holds, hands digging into the sandy grass feverishly as not to lose hold. Finally, he felt the slightest of stone edges against his feet and brought himself up, torso now lying flat on the plain like top. He used the very last bit of his strength to hoist himself up, feet finally touching the cliff top as he threw himself onto the top.

As soon as his whole body made it, he crawled away from the edge of the cliff, moving toward the middle before he collapsed of exhaustion, lying flat on his back, lungs heaving desperately, taking in copious amounts of the thin air. 

He finally caught his breath enough to get to his knees and looked about him. The top of the plateau was almost completely flat, the massive plain being covered only by a few and far between bushes, some rocky grass, and one lone tree on the other end of it. But what really caught his attention was the sparse grass in the near center, where the plant life was blackened and burned, clearly from the fire up of engines.

He was in the right place, now all he had to do was wait.

Waiting was the absolute worst, Louie had been sitting there for hours. When he had first gotten up there, the sun was almost directly above him, signaling about an hour before noon, but now the sun was starting on its descent. He had at best three more hours before true nightfall came. Which would be problematic. If it was cold down on the jungle floor, with tree cover, then it would be freezing on top of here.

It was just as that thought ran through his conscious that he heard it. The low sound of engines in the distance, drawing closer and closer. Then he saw it, the massive shadow once again moving, covering the spot where he sat as he scrambled to find a good hiding spot. He settled on a patch of prickly dead bushes that he dove into, just as the Iron Vulture finally landed.

It was as large up close as Louie remembered it being, purple and steel glinting in the early evening sun, as the cargo ramp lowered and a group consisting of about six or seven pirates walked out of the cargo plane, heading toward the lone tree. It was there that they reached to the ground and pulled at a heavy metal trapdoor. 

They obviously had some sort of bunker-like hiding place for something, but Louie didn’t stick around to find out what was in it, instead he crept out of his hiding place, heading toward the open maw of the ship. He slipped into the ship, careful to stay out of view of the few pirates who sat, their backs to Louie, playing cards, and drinking cheap beer.

The bay was exactly as he remembered it, a large space in the middle, large enough to land a ship, a large set of doors on the far wall, where the small biplanes were stored. And the walls were still coated with large wooden crates and nets of rope. He dove behind a stack of the crates as the members of Karnage’s crew returned to the Vulture, carrying a large chest between them. 

“Ugh, I can’t believe we had to stop here just to get some fuckn’ box.” One pirate grumbled as the six carried it in.

“Yeah, I signed up for the easy money, not so the singing nut can kill some rando.” Another load-bearing pirate complained.

“Ye greenskins have no idea, Cap’s been after this one fer years. Kept us from loads of easy scores. With any luck, if he has his quote on quote ‘perfect revenge’ than we can go back to plundering.” A female, peg legged pirate spoke.

“Why didn’t y’all just mutiny?” The first pirate asked.

“We tried. Multiple times, it never works.” The more experienced one replied.

“Right there will be fine.” A strange, heavily accented voice came from the top of the plane, interrupting the conversation and the captain himself slid down a long rope. Landing right in front of the group of pirates, as they set down the chest right in front of the boxes where Louie was hiding, Karnage instantly fiddled with the lock and opened it, throwing the back the lid.  
“Finally, we’re ready.” Karnage whispered under his breath, looking down at the chest, and reaching in. He grabbed out a golden hilted sword and a large, obnoxious hat, that he placed on his belt and head respectively, before raising up his head to address the crew. “Fire up the engines! Load the guns! Dewey Duck dies by sunset tonight!” He dropped his voice again, as if he were talking only to Louie. “The perfect revenge.”

Karnage would have quite the time finding Huey, Dewey and Launchpad, but if he did, they would stand literally no chance against him. So, Louie needed to get Webby and get the hell out of there, preferably getting back to his family just in time for Scrooge to arrive in his helicopter. 

At least, that was the best casernario. Whether or not it was a realistic one was to be determined.

From his brief stint as a member of Glomgold’s supervillain ‘family’ Louie had a pretty good idea of the layout of the ship. There wasn’t exactly any form of official prison, or at least there wasn’t when he was last here. In short, he would have to do a sweep of the ship, in hopes of finding her. 

But he did know where he should start. The massive airship was divided into two or three levels, depending on how you counted it. Some rooms took up the entire vertical height, like the hanger, but others, like the cockpit were on just one of the floors. To keep his Webby prisoner, they would have to have some area with several guards, just to keep her there, a place with a lot of foot traffic and surveillance. A place like the cockpit.

Unfortunately there were only a couple ways there that he knew of. There was a staircase to the second floor just past the hanger, but to get there, he would have to somehow get past at least a dozen guards, between the card playing ones, and the people who had carried the chest loitering about, leaning against the walls, sans Karnage since he walked away, presumably retreating to his quarters if Louie remembered the layout correctly. Still, the pirates pretty much eliminated that option. 

But, he had a plan B if you will, there was another way to get to the second floor. The catwalks.

The ‘third’ floor, Karnage mainly used the catwalks for dramatic spotlights, and not much else. Meaning there was usually little to no foot traffic up there, and even better, the staircase leading up to it was directly on the second floor, not far from the cockpit. The only trick was getting up to it. He had a plan for that too.

The advantages of climbing all over a hanger in order to impersonate your triplet, as to keep a bloodthirsty canine from killing him were surprisingly vast. Including the fact that Louie knew for a fact that the rope nets that coated the walls of the bay, reached all the way up to the ceiling, meaning it reached all the way up to the catwalks as well.

He scanned the entire room. Everyone in his eyeline appeared busy, but he knew that if he started climbing, there was absolutely no way that they wouldn’t notice him. What he needed was a distraction.

He searched behind the boxes, looking for literally anything he could use. His salvation came in the form in a dusty brown-glass beer bottle. He dared to raise his eyes above the edge of the nearest crate and surveyed the room once more. The pirates were still playing cards, and drinking from bottles that were identical to the one he was holding, a couple of the group that had carried in the box had joined the card playing group, but the rest were still loitering about the cargo bay, including one who had taken up a seat on the closed chest, facing away from the table.

This was too perfect.

He shuffled down the row of boxes, stepping over some smaller crates as he got to a place where the pirate on the box wouldn’t be able to see him either and raised himself up, kneeling on a box so that his upper half was above the row of crates. He readied his throwing arm, holding the bottle loosely in his right hand. He quickly worked out the angles, and tossed it into the air, diving behind the crates as soon as the bottle left his palm, and went to the metal wall, grasping the rope in his hands, waiting for the chaos to unfold.

CLUNK!

A brown bottle hit the lanky, one-eyed pirate in the back of the head, stinging against his skull and clattering onto the sheet metal floor. His head whipped around to look at where several of his comrades were betting on a round of poker, and drinking like there was no tomorrow.

“Alright, which one of you threw this?” He demanded, picking up the glass and walking over to the group.

“Huh? No one threw that Larry.” The peg legged pirate dismissed, looking back at her poker hand.

“No. I’m tired of you guys fucking with me. Who the hell threw it?” Larry insisted slamming the bottle down on the middle of the table.

“You got a problem Larry?” The peg-legged pirate got to her, well, foot and furrowed her brow, clearly threatening the younger crew member.

“Yeah. You’re my problem!” Larry yelled, suddenly shoving his arms into the other pirate, knocking her backward and making her fall into the table, cards scattering into the air as the table fell to its side. She swiftly jumped up to her feet and raised her clenched fists. Only to be instantly met with a jab to the face from her opponent.

“Five bucks on Meg.” One pirate whispered to the other as they naturally formed a ring around the two.

“Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!” They chanted as Louie climbed his way up the ropes, easily scaling the net, and reaching the creaky, unstable network of metal that formed the catwalk. He leapt the short distance from the top of the net to the catwalk, clinging onto the railing and swinging his legs onto the thin metal mesh. 

He walked along the catwalk, wincing with every noise the walkway made under his feet. After only a few yards he could see the more solid metal flooring of the second floor only a few odd feet below him. He swung his legs over the railing, the toes of his webbed just resting on the edge of the catwalk, under the railing. He then worked his hands downwards so that they gripped the pipe railing, and let his feet slip, leaving him hanging in the air. He dropped down onto the second floor, knees buckling as his feet hit the floor, a slight sting of pain going through his body as he landed.

He quickly dusted himself off, getting to his feet and continuing down the hall, sticking to the walls of the plane, and keeping in the shadows as much as possible, outright praying that no pirate would come down the hall, and see him.

He finally made it to the cockpit, and laid eyes upon her.

Webby was hanging from a large hook in the ceiling, handcuffs suspending her in the air, a rough cloth in her beak, and blood slowly running down her cheek. She saw him and her eyes widened in shock, but she didn’t make a sound, instead inclining her head slightly to the right.

Louie understood immediately and silently unsheathed his khopesh, creeping up to where a duck manned the controls of the Iron Vulture, back to Louie. He raised up the sword and clocked the pirate in the back of the head with the pommel, knocking him unconscious, catching his shoulder so that he wouldn’t fall into the controls, leaning him back in the chair.

He then went right back over to Webby, reaching up on his tiptoes and ripping the gag out of her beak, casting it into a random corner of the room, giving Webby a lopsided smile.

“Woof, he has my sympathies, sword handles aren’t fun to be hit with.” Webby quipped as Louie took a knee and supported her weight with his hands, one hand under each foot, lifting her up enough to get off the hook. 

“Most blunt objects aren’t.” Louie chuckled, just grateful Webby was not only still alive, but mostly unharmed, only a few bruises decorating her beautiful face and the one slowly bleeding cut that was on her temple. The handcuffs moved up the curved metal, before being caught on the very edge, the sharp tip of the large hook.

“Change course, I know where Dewey Duck is hiding. What the-!” A strange voice interrupted their escape just as Louie was going to give the last little boost, causing him to drop Webby, leaving her dangling an inch from freedom, to whip around and look at the intruder.

It was Karnage, because of course it ducking was, and he stood in the doorway, red and blue coat complete with the giant stupid hat he had put on earlier. Louie got to his feet, flashing Webby a sideways wink, and holding his khopesh out in front of him. And Karnage did the same, the two standing at the ready, neither making the first move.

“What’s your angle, Karnage? Why crash our plane? Why abduct Webby?” Louie asked as the two began to circle one another, staring the other down as they moved.

“To anger Dewey Duck of course. Injure his family, crash his plane, and capture his precious ‘Webbs’” He snarled mockingly, his back to her and Louie inclined his head slightly, the unspoken signal.

“No one calls me Webbs.” Webby growled, swinging herself up enough to propel off of the very edge of the hook, bringing her arms forward, looping the chain of her handcuffs around the canine’s neck, pulling it tight against his windpipe. “Except Louie!” She finished as Karnage blacked out, tongue lolling out of his head as he collapsed to the floor. Webby unlooped the chain and reached down to the pirate’s belt, pulling off a ring of keys and unlocking her shackles, rubbing her sore wrists as the cuffs fell off.

Louie sheathed his khopesh and swept her up into a massive hug, holding her close, feeling her steady heartbeat. He had no idea what he would have done if she was hurt, or worse- no he couldn’t think about that, it didn’t matter, she was alright, that was all that was important, well, that and getting out of here.

“Is he dead?” He asked bluntly as the two broke apart, still leaving so many things unsaid between them.

“No, just unconscious.” She assured him. “Are Huey and Dewey here? Launchpad?” 

“Afraid not. You just got me.” He half shrugged, a crooked grin splitting his beak open.

“My hero.” Webby made a show of batting her eyelashes excessively in possibly the most un-Webby like thing he had ever seen her do, before pressing a kiss to his fluffy cheek, effectively short-circuiting his brain. They looked into each other's eyes for one moment before they both broke out laughing, Louie’s chuckle a touch half-hearted. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy that.  
“Alright my knight-in-shining-armor, any plans for getting out of here?” She continued to tease him, grabbing his hand and intertwining it with her own.

“What plans? I’ve been making this up as I went.” He bantered, smiling at her. “But yeah, I have the beginnings of one, but I’m afraid we’re going to have to give up the element of surprise.”

“By all means.” She offered, one hand still holding Louie’s hand and the other reaching behind herself and pulling out her grappling hook from who knows where and readying it. Louie pulled her over to the control panel and grabbed the unconscious pirate, regretfully letting go of her hand to do so. The pirate was wearing a long, ratty trench coat and a classic pirate bandanna, his look complete with the eyepatch he wore.

Louie pulled the items right off of his body, handing the trenchcoat and bandanna to Webby and pulling the eyepatch onto himself over his right eye. She quickly donned the items, and hopefully it would be enough to disguise them both for what he was about to do.

He hit a red button on the control panel and an alarm began to ring, presumably blasting its loud, repetitive tone throughout the entire ship. Louie then leaned forward, hovering over a microphone built into the panel, and holding down the button right below it.

“Attention all crew members,” He spoke into the microphone, imitating a squeaky male voice, complete with voice cracks. “We have located our target, everyone to your stations, flyers, in the air. The captain wants everyone ready in five minutes, go, go, go!” He shouted, releasing the button and turning back to Webby.  
“I have no idea if this’ll work, are you ready to fight if it doesn’t?” He asked and she just smirked in return, twirling her grappling hook around her finger like she was a western gunslinger and clenching her other hand into a fist, holding it up.

Louie raised his own and bumped fists with her, before turning heel and half jogging out of the room, Webby hot on his heels as they went down the hall and then turned a corner, running down the stairs into the main bay and entering a throng of pirates all scrambling to ready the mini biplanes for takeoff. Webby reached out and grabbed Louie’s hand, trying not to lose him in the crowd. Louie pulled to the mini hanger within a hanger if you will, that stored the drone planes.

Soon they found themselves walking amongst pirate pilots as they climbed into their respective planes, Louie pulled Webby to a purple biplane that was the same color as the outside of the plane, and far in the back.

“This might be a bad time to ask this, but can you fly one of these?” Louie asked, whispering, he knew that Webby knew how to operate boats, helicopters, and other types of planes, but this might be a different type than what she was used to.

“Assuming it’s similar to the kinda stuff Launchpad has at his airfield, then yes.” Webby whispered back, both of them quickly discarding their pirate disguises before climbing up the ladder into the indented area. Louie following right behind her, and then realized something. He had happened to pick a one person plane, meaning only one seat. He looked around, and the pirates had basically already filled all of the other ones, meaning they were stuck with this one.

“Hooboy, I’m seeing a problem with this.” He drypanned as Webby climbed in.

“What?” She asked, still her sweet, semi-innocent self, presumably not realizing the situation. Then she patted her lap invitingly. Wow. She did know. Louie’s heart beat spiked, his face turning crimson as he climbed in right on top of her, situating himself on her lap, his tailbone resting on her skirt-covered thighs, and his back leaning against her chest warm metal of his khopesh digging into his spine as he angled his head so it was relaxing against Webby’s right shoulder, whiskers brushing against her neck. 

Webby looped her arms below his, reaching forward and grabbing the shaft firmly. The stick of the airplane was pulled back as she fired up the propeller, the blades spinning and gearing them for takeoff.

The massive bay door sounded off as it lowered, the maw of the Iron Vulture opening again, the darkening sky revealed bit by bit, weak sunlight filtering into the hanger. The planes got into a line, pulling and speeding out of the hanger, flying into the air one by one. 

Webby pulled a lever and they lurched forward, lining up in the middle of the hanger, the propeller roaring as they sped up, wheels bouncing against the makeshift runway as the biplane shuddered, finally lifting into the air just as they went off the edge. Louie sank a little more into Webby as they finally made it out. They had escaped!

“How long do you think we’ve got til they notice?” Webby yelled over the noise of the engine.

“Not long!” Louie turned his head, and yelled back.

“Then where am I going!?” Webby raised her voice even more.

“I, um... Give me a second!” Louie had spent all his time in the Vulture trying to free Webby and so he didn’t really know where they were. He craned his neck, attempting to get a good view of the ground as the radio crackled to life.

“All air units, this is your captain speaking, the Duck brats have stolen Darryl’s plane, and are escaping! Shoot them out of the sky!” The strangely accented voice commanded.

“Oh shit.” Louie cursed, looking even harder for some form of landmark. But there was just row upon overlapping row of jungle trees. Wait! There it was, a beautiful white rock reflecting the slowly dying sunlight, judging by the position of the sun, they just had to fly straight at it to get to the crash site. And it seemed the Iron Vulture was going the exact same direction, meaning Karnage wasn’t lying when he said that he knew where Dewey was, they had to get there before him.  
“Webbs! Go for the white rock cliffs!”

“Got it!” She replied, turning the plane sharply, making him slide across her lap, his beak ending up pressing against her neck. She pulled out of the turn, heading right for the rocks and as he righted himself, his cheek ending up flush with hers, his hot, flushed feathers becoming mingled and slightly tangled with her own.

They suddenly heard a loud repetitive sound as streaks of bright orange light went right past the wing of their plane. Louie whipped his head behind him and sure enough there were seven planes of varying sizes following behind them, and they all had guns.

“Webby, seven boogeys on our six!” He yelped, remembering some of the emergency spy lingo Webbs had taught him.

“Not for long.” Webby growled, determination hardening behind her eyes, as she yanked back on the throttle, the plane angled straight up, propeller working overtime as they ascended upwards. Webby threw the throttle back again, the plane arcing through the air as Louie found himself upside down, he let out a miniscream, seeing their opponents right below them, trying to follow them.

Webby slammed the throttle to the side, finally righting themselves for a second before flipping open a cap on the throttle, resting her finger against the red trigger, before she shoved the throttle down, nose diving toward the other planes, and letting the machine guns rip. Streaks of orange light flashed through the air as Webby avoided the return fire going right up towards them, turning near constantly as she gunned down one, two, three, four of the enemy, ripping their wings to shreds, and making them fall out of the sky, leaving the pirates inside to either jump or die.

The other three planes pulled off from Webby’s path of wanton destruction, watching as several parachutes popped out, floating to the ground. Webby pulled up, making her parallel with the ground once more. The other three planes once again found themselves tailing right behind them, lighting up the dusk sky with their gunfire. Suddenly Webby hit the throttle once more, going into a straight nosedive for the second time, two of the planes following her as she went right towards the ground. Louie screamed his head off as they plummeted to the treeline, machine gunfire resounding through the jungle as they got closer and closer. Only to pull back up at the very last second, rocketing straight up as the other two planes didn’t have the time to, crashing and instantly exploding in a plume of fire.

Only leaving one.

Webby pulled back up, and found the very last one waiting for her. She smiled, a cocky smirk and turned her head, winking at Louie. She didn’t change course, keeping the two on a collision course and the other pilot did the same, neither willing to yield.

“Uhh, Webbs, what are you doing?” Louie asked as she continued to close the distance between the two aircraft.  
“Webbs?” The two got closer and Webby fired up the guns, repetitive machine gunfire shooting around the one coming right at them. The other pilot started their guns as well, fire only barely missing them as they got ever closer to collision.  
“WEBBY!!” Louie screamed as both Webby and the finally finally hit their targets, half their left wing blew off as the propeller slowed and the engine powering it caught fire, but Webby hit the pilot’s engine right on, causing the entire plane to combust, exploding in a plume of fire and smoke, leaving them to only collide with the black smoke that marked the remnants of the pirate. 

But as they say, out of the frying pan, into the literal engine fire.

“We’re going down. We need a plan!” Webby yelled as the engine’s fire spread, then, using the sides of the cockpit as leverage, gracefully slid herself out from under Louie, her feet standing on the chair under where Louie sat. Louie pried himself from the seat, shuffling and turning around, looking around the cramped space for literally anything they could use.

Then he spotted the tan, canvas looking backpack that was slid between the seat and the wall. He bent down, getting close to Webby’s chest as he pulled out the bag, holding it up for Webby to see.

“We have a parachute!” Louie yelled, doing his best not to cough on the smoke accumulating from the engine. “We’ll have to jump!”

“It’ll never support both of us!” Webby shot back, looking off into the distance, a gleam in her eye that honestly worried Louie. “I have a plan.” She stepped onto the edge of the plane, extending a hand to Louie. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” He answered without hesitation, taking her hand, and stepping up next to her. 

“Great. Cause we might die.” 

“Wait, what?”

Webby used Louie’s hand to pull him close to her, her arm wrapping around his waist and lifting him up, carrying him under her left arm as he still desperately clung to the parachute. She then pulled out her grappling hook, shooting it towards the massive metal Vulture. Webby delivered a swift kick to the throttle, making the flaming plane veer toward one of the massive balloons that were fastened to the sides of the Vulture. Then, just as the last moment passed, just as the plane was about to collide with the hydrogen zeppelin, Webby stopped her balancing act on the angled plane and leapt off the metal.

Louie let out a high pitched scream as Webby jumped, the flammable gas lighting behind them and letting out a deafening boom, the explosion instantly burning their backs and blackening their clothes as they free fell for a single moment before the line grew taut, swinging them through the air.

The pair’s arc sent them upward, right onto the flat top of the Iron Vulture, where they tumbled onto the metal, just beside the edge of the plane and near the unexploded hydrogen pontoon. Webby only letting Louie go as she let hit the retracting button on the hook, landing so that they laid right next to each other, their lungs heaving for any form of clean air, the hot metal of Louie’s sword cutting into his back. 

“What do we do now? Karnage knows where Dewey and Huey are.” Louie panted, turning his head to look at Webby, panic overtaking his features. “And they’re hurt, they couldn’t survive an assault from him.”

“Well we could try and take the Vulture.” Webby turned to look at him, before slowly rising to her feet, wincing slightly as she patted out a small flame that had popped up on her shoulder and picked up her grappling hook as somehow both the grappling hook and the parachute survived the journey unharmed. “But there are still dozens of pirates, plus Karnage, so-”

“Our odds aren’t good of succeeding, much less living.” Louie finished for her as she offered him the grappling hook free hand that he instantly took. Webby pulled him to his feet, his heels resting on the very edge of the platform, his singed back stinging at the cold breeze, as Webby interlaced her fingers with his, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.  
“There’s just no good way to stop him, he’s already so close to them.” Louie pointed to the ground far below where a straight line of fallen trees and overturned dirt scarred the earth.

“I have another option, but, it’s-” Webby trailed off, looking away from Louie.

“Nonsurvivable?” Louie guessed, and she nodded grimly as he picked up the canvas parachute that rested on his foot with his other hand.

“We could blow up the other zeppelin, the plane would crash, we’d save Huey and Dewey and Launchpad. We would definitely succeed but we probably wouldn’t make it.” Webby informed him, for one of the only times not looking excited to die in a cool way. 

“Webby, if we die, I have to tell you something first.” Louie, ragged for breath, sank in every detail of the scene in front of him. He was still holding the parachute in his hand, his back to the open air, and hers to the rest of the ship, fire from the remains of the zeppelin crackling. They weren’t a foot apart, eyes locked as Webby’s grappling hook fell to her side, her arm hanging loosely.

“What is it?” Webby piqued an eyebrow, still holding onto Louie’s hand, her warm fingers interlaced with his own.

“I love you Webbs. You’ve known that. You have to have known.” Louie struggled to meet her eyes with his own, his tone begging her to have known, and for this not to be a shock for her.

“I have. For a while. You’re incredibly unsubtle.” Webby giggled in spite of herself, her voice shaky. After a second of standing awkwardly, the flames seeming to burn a thousand miles away despite being only opposite of the plane from it, Webby went in for it, taking the smallest of steps forward and bringing her beak ever closer to his, about to lean in for the kill….

Only to be wrapped in a hug, Louie’s soft whiskers brushing against her cheek as he held her close to him, spinning around so that her back faced the open air. 

“I know. But Webby, I’m sorry” Louie smiled, as he held her even closer, tear filled eyes looking into the orange and purple of the setting sun. “Take care of my brothers for me.”

Webby felt it as if the entire world slowed down, as the words passed Louie’s beak, she felt a hand against her shoulder, pushing her away. And then she was floating through the air, staring at Louie’s tear streaked face, looking into his remorse-filled eyes, his hand holding her grappling hook loosely and his other hand devoid of the parachute. She looked down, and sure enough, her hand held the parachute. Left with no other option, she pulled it on and pulled the cord, time speeding back up as her fall was slowed as the canvas deployed.

Louie watched as Webby’s parachute unfurled, her person already a pink smudge descending into the thick foliage below, stashing Webby’s prized grappling hook into his pocket. Then he looked back up, meeting, from a few feet away, the livid, savage eyes of the dread pirate Don Karnage. The pirate who wouldn’t rest until he saw his brother’s head on a platter. This time he had only captured Webby, but he could do far worse. He could have killed Huey or Launchpad or Webby when he had the chance. 

Louie had to make sure he never got the chance again. 

Karnage drew his blade as Louie didn’t bother to pull out his. Louie was so tired. He could feel the fatigue setting into his very bones, every foot he climbed, every inch he walked, and every sword he blocked made themselves painfully well known as every muscle in his entire being ached and screamed for rest. 

“Your entire bloodline shall die.” Karnage decreed, holding his sword at the ready. “Starting with you!” He began to swing wildly, filled with rage as his main driving force. Louie stepped back with every step forward Karnage took, keeping just out of reach and letting himself be driven backward until he was standing on the very edge of the second bright purple, hydrogen-filled mini zeppelin.

“Whoah, whoah, whoah. Just stop!” Louie yelled out as he finally held his ground, and Karnage paused for just a moment.  
“I know I’m going to die, so could you at least make it quick?” He pleaded, holding his hands up in the classic surrender pose, even going so far as to pull out his khopesh, only to cast it a couple feet away from him. Karnage held him at sword point for a moment, considering the plea, almost waiting for him to reveal any hidden tricks, after a second though, he spoke.

“I shall bring Dewey Duck the head of his brother!” Karnage laughed, holding his sword at the side of Louie’s throat. 

Karnage brought his blade back and toward his neck in a graceful arc and Louie’s grim look turned into a smirk as he dropped to down and rolled to his right, quickly reclaiming the golden khopesh, and letting out a chuckle of his own.

“Sucker.” Louie smiled, striking his sword against the pontoon, releasing the hydrogen gas.

“What!” Karnage yelled, stopping his sword, not realizing what was happening, as Louie sprinted off of the damn thing as the sparks in the air caught the gas. A second explosion rocked the Vulture as the hydrogen caught, a fiery inferno spreading as what remained caught fire. With the second zeppelin gone, the Vulture didn’t stand a chance to stay in the air.

The sound of whipping wind and the ringing fought for dominance over Louie’s eardrums, both sounds resounding in his head as the Vulture began to fall out of the sky. The descent was fast, yet somehow slow at the same time, propellers keeping the plane in the air longer than he anticipated. And so he stood there, eyes watering with the heavy smoke and waited for the end.

When he heard a growl coming from right behind him. It was Karnage, that stupid hat missing, blue and red coat in tatters, and his face. On one side, the explosion had taken off his skin, leaving only burnt pink flesh, a burned, pink, hate filled eye staring at him, teeth bared, with nothing on that side left to cover them, and sword still gripped in his non-KFC-ed hand. 

No words were exchanged as Louie got to his feet, preparing for what he knew was to come. He grabbed the khopesh off of the ground, blinking the smoke out of his eyes as Karnage roared in newfound rage. 

By no means should Louie be able to win this fight, but unlike every other time he had held this sword, there was no family for him to worry about, and there was no him to worry about either. The plane crashing was inevitable, he was going to die anyway and so all he had to do was make sure Karnage died with him. And if that meant just stalling him until they both died in the crash, then so be it.

And so there were two, just Karnage and Louie’s desire, his determination to kill him, one way or the other.

Louie let out a primal yell as he ran at the canine captain, raising his sword high and swinging down at him. Karnage easily parried and the two entered a round of the most dangerous game. Providing and blocking strikes, each and every one meant to kill their opponent.

They were flanked on both sides by fire, leaving only the middle, steel floor on which to battle, exchanging blows, each with more force than the last, the sound of steel clashing and clanging only drowned out by the low but ever present hum of the massive propellers as they slowed the fall, somehow unaffected by the two explosions that had rocked the ship, the noise only getting louder and louder. 

As the two swordsmen clashed, Karnage's swings became wider and more desperate as the seconds wore on, making him and his strikes unpredictable, leaving Louie with little other choice than to keep moving backward, hence moving closer to the massive propellers. 

The wind of the machines got stronger and stronger, the air ripped from his lungs as the hum got louder and louder, and Karnage’s strikes came faster and faster, threatening to drive him right into the spinning blades only a foot behind him.

He waited a moment for the opportunity to present itself, then swung with all his might at the pirate king. Karnage didn’t bother to bring up his sword to block the strike, instead just raising up his blackened hand, catching the golden edge by having it embed itself into his flesh, only slightly wincing at the pain, yanking his hand back, and with Louie’s grip loose with sweat and shock, pulled the khopesh right from his hands.

He pulled the golden blade out of his bone, dual wielding the khopesh and his own cutlass. Louie looked around desperately for any form of weapon, but couldn’t see anything except his own two hands. 

He wound his right fist back and brought it toward the muzzle of the canine captain with all his might. But Karnage caught the wrist of his arm before he could make contact, trapping it between the flat sides of two swords and before Louie could even try to escape the hold, turned his cutlass sideways, cutting through the flesh and tendons of his wrist, severing the hand right off.

Louie let out a scream as the now disembodied hand spinned away, falling into the all-consuming fire, blood spilling from the stump onto the steel as Karnage laughed with the cold and maniacal nature of an unfeeling hurricane.

Louie fell to his knees, clenching his eyes shut as he clutched his wrist close to his stomach, blood soaking through his hoodie as pain raced through his arms, frying every coherent thought like an electric current from a harsh lightning strike. He still was in tune enough to his sense though that he could hear the laugh of Karnage die out and he could hear the sound of metal clattering, a blade falling to the ground, and he could feel the air move near his beak as Karnage raised up his sword above his head, ready to strike the final blow.

Louie breathed in, a ragged breath, desperate for air, and laced with pain.

Thoughts of Webby flooded his mind, he thought of her safe on the ground, looking to the sky. He thought of her laugh, her smile, her brain, her brawn, her infectious excitement, her bravery, her fearlessness, her hand intertwined with his, and her unavoidable, striking blue eyes. 

He thought of how he wasn’t afraid anymore. Of how he was ready to die.

But first he had to finish this, for once and for all.

Louie breathed out, eyes snapping open, laced with absolute, unwavering determination.

CLANG!

Metal met metal as Karnage’s swing khopesh was stopped by the dull steel of his own discarded cutlass. 

Louie’s left hand had found the hilt of Karnage’s blade as his right dipped into the raging fire, blood boiling and flesh sizzling as the stump was burned and stoppered. He threw up his right arm, sparks and cinders flying from the cauterized wound and right into the dread pirate’s eyes.

Karnage stumbled backward, clenching his eyes shut in the fresh pain, as Louie slashed at the pirate, locking his sword arm and twisting, the pirate spinning around, his back to the propeller as the golden khopesh flew out of his hand and out into the empty air. Karnage cleared his eyes and stared Louie down, pure hatred in his eyes, just as Louie dropped the blade and raised up his left fist, sending his bloody, bruised knuckles into the canine’s snout, making him fall backward- 

Right into the propeller.

Blood sprayed everywhere as Karnage was reduced into tiny chunks, thick red rain splattering onto Louie, staining his dirty feathers even further, he could feel the hot liquid on his face as the propeller continued to spin, undaunted, only lightly stained red. And, for the first time since he had pushed Webby off this godforsaken plane he looked over, through the haze of smoke and to the ground below, the green of the jungle was so close he could practically reach out and touch it. He didn’t even notice.  
Louie fell down, lying down on the metal, not even feeling the extreme heat, eyelids growing heavier and heavier, an inviting, peaceful darkness beckoning to him. Darkness that he embraced with open arms.……

\------------------------------------------------------~oOo~--------------------------------------------------------------

Webby watched as the Iron Vulture fell out of the sky, she saw the flaming mess of the second zeppelin, she knew what Louie had done. She watched as a flaming inferno of absolute destruction flew right above their heads, crashing into the treeline not thirty feet away as Huey stood next to her, mouth agape. 

When she had landed on the jungle floor it had only taken her a minute or so to find the trail that the Sunchaser had left and had followed it until she found the group sitting around a campfire that had gone out hours ago. Huey was relatively okay, Launchpad was fine, if a little disoriented, and Dewey was, he was, he was still breathing, the only movement he made was the up and down motion of his chest. 

Despite Huey’s questioning, Webby had ignored all of his questions on how she had escaped, and where Louie was, instead keeping her eyes fixated on the aircraft far above them. She saw the explosion when the second one blew and she knew what it probably meant as the plane fell out of the sky. The final descent of the Iron Vulture was quick, only lasting a few minutes, but to Webby it felt like hours, days, years even.

Every logical facet in her brain was telling her that her Louie was dead, but her heart refused to believe it. She refused to believe it. They had survived and done so much together. For fuck’s sake, he was Louie Duck! The heir of the greatest bloodline in the world, slayer of the Demegorgan, the greatest manipulator this world has ever seen, the nicest and cutest person she had ever known, the love of her life, that Louie Duck! And Louie Duck couldn’t be gone, he just couldn’t be.

She bolted after the flaming wreckage, following the massive gouge it made in the ground as it slid, the dirt littered with pieces of burning cloth and hot metal, the dirt itself burning to the touch.

But Webby ran upon it anyway, running faster than she ever had before in her life. Running faster then she did from any monster, from any boulder she sprinted through the forest, leaping over fallen trees and massive scraps of the Vulture, until she finally reached the behemoth of fire and metal’s final resting place.

Webby sprung into the air, landing on the scalding hot metal of the Vulture. But she ignored the blisters and burns forming on the bottoms of her webbed feet, instead looking around desperately for Louie. She dodged around the massive pieces of shrapnel, the loose wiring crackling with electricity, and the now stationary propellers, one of them stained a dark red. Webby shook her head and moved on, looking for any sign. 

A glint of gold caught her eye and she dashed over to it, digging through the burning hot debris, pulling out a scrap of Louie’s khopesh, it was just the handle and a jagged piece of the blade still attached. Webby stuffed it between her waist and her belt, looking even more feverently. Until she finally saw it.

A flash of darkened and dirty green, she recognized it instantly. It was just a scrap of cloth showing through under a pile of heavy wreckage, just in front of the broken ‘beak tip’ of the vulture. Webby instantly leapt off of the wreckage and started digging desperately at the debris, moving pieces of sheet metal off feverently until she at last unearthed him.

He was a mess. A deep cut ran from his hairline, going around his eye, down to his beak, he was covered in blood and dirt, his white feathers stained grey and red, his beak had a chip in it near the front, and his right hand was a mangled but burned stump of dried blood, missing feathers and blackened flesh, not to mention the countless cuts and bruises that covered almost every inch of him. But the worst was the i-beam that lay atop him. It was at least ten feet long and was resting right on his stomach.

“Louie, c’mon you can’t be dead.” Webby pleaded as she brought her ear to his beak, then a tiny, ragged breath flitted against her, but it was weak at best.  
“He can’t breath.” Webby realized, moving back to the i-beam. It was propped up with Louie as it’s vertex, one end on the jungle floor and the other suspended a couple feet in the air.

Webby moved under the midair section of metal, grounding her feet and squaring her shoulders, placing her hands on the metal, preparing herself mentally. For Louie.

“DD’AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!” She let out a primal scream as she lifted, the beam slowly, inch by inch lifting off of her Louie. It finally came all the way off of him, but Webby couldn’t move it, she couldn’t just throw it to the side and she couldn’t move Louie.

“Webby what are you-? Is that-?” Huey ran in, his face screwed up in pain, then widening in shock as he saw her.

“Grab. Louie. Now!” She managed to grunt, she couldn’t hold this for much longer. Huey dashed over and grabbed Louie by the shoulders, dragging him out. As soon as she was sure both of them were in the clear, Webby let out another instinctive yell as she lifted it above her head and threw it with all her might towards her side, ducking out from under it as the beam crashed to the ground, bending the metal it landed on.

Webby collapsed to her knees, every muscle in her body encased in its own inferno of unimaginable pain. She crawled toward Louie, where Huey was hanging over him, a grim look on the oldest triplet’s face. 

Louie looked off into the colorful sky, red and purple of the sunset reflecting in his eyes. His stare was blank though, devoid of any form of real life. He let out an excruciating cough, blood flying out, running down and out the corner of his beak.

“Louie! Louie! Can you hear me!” Webby grabbed his left hand and shook it desperately.

“Webbs?” The tiniest of whispers came from him almost inaudible over the crackling of fire and electricity. But Webby heard it perfectly.

“Yes, it’s me. It’s me.” She whispered back.

“Did w- Did we do it? Huey? Dewey?” He gasped out.

“They’re safe.” She assured him. “You saved them all.”

“Good.” He took in a shuddering, painful breath. “Not bad for the evil triplet, huh?” He chuckled, his beak splitting open in a bloody-toothed grin. He deflated, a spasmed breath out and his eyes fell shut. Webby waited for a beat, silent, but then he didn’t take another breath in.

“No, no, Louie, don’t die on me, don’t die on me please!” Webby begged, shaking his arm even more desperately, trying to elicit any form of response.  
“No, no. No. NO!” Webby clutched her head with her hands, tears forming in her eyes for the first time in a very long time. She threw herself onto Louie’s lifeless body as the sobbing overtook her, frantically grabbing his hand and intertwining her fingers with his as she soaked his blood speckled hoodie with her tears. She never told him. She never had the chance, and she never would.  
“Louie, I love you. I’ve always loved you and I always will.” She mumbled into the fabric. It didn’t matter what she said, all of it was too little, far too late. 

“Webby.” She felt a hand on her shoulder as Huey spoke, his voice shaky, his own tears running down his cheeks. “I’m sorry, but he’s gone.”

Webby knew that. She knew what she had condemned him to by not just destroying that plane herself, she knew that all of this was her fault, she knew every single moment she wanted to tell him and didn’t, she knew that she would regret that for the rest of her life. She knew all of it. The only thing Webby didn’t know was what she was going to do without him. 

Webby reluctantly untangled herself from Louie getting up and kneeling beside him. Finally, she grabbed the sides of his head carefully and pressed a deep, sweet kiss to his beak. And, despite herself, love still ran through her like a couple jump cables attached to her heart as she kissed him. She sat up, breaking the kiss and looked down at Louie, tears streaming freely down her cheeks.

“No he’s not. He’s not dead.” Webby raised up her head, eyes filled with pure determination. Because by every deity in this vast universe, Webby Vanderquack would not let Louie die, and if that meant breaking into the afterlife and destroying death itself then she would do it.

She gingerly picked him up and carried him toward the wreckage, where loose cables dangled from the ceiling, crackling with electricity. 

“Webby?” Huey asked, not making a physical movement, knowing he couldn’t stop her even if he tried.

She laid Louie down and grabbed the cables, holding them close to one another, the tendrils of electricity jumping from one cable to the other. She thrust them down onto Louie’s chest, sending a powerful jolt through his body. Nothing. She waited a moment and did it again, electricity coursing through him. 

Louie shot straight up, his breathing not only back but going into overtime, gasping for breath, his heart going at a million miles per hour. 

“Louie!” Webby exclaimed, throwing her arms around him and seizing his whiskers, pulling him into a kiss. “You’re alive. You’re really alive!”

“Holy shit!” Huey yelled, sprinting over to the couple. “Louie!”

“Webby- You’re? I’m?” He sputtered out, confusion written all over his features.

“I love you too.” She smiled, tears running down her face. Louie reached up his hand, and cupped her cheek, wiping away her tears with his thumb. “Don’t you ever dare die on me again.” She half-laughed through her tears.

“I would never.” He promised, and leaned forward, capturing her in another sweet slow kiss. He laid back down and he seemed content with that, letting out a deep breath, his eyes fluttering shut and promptly passing out. She picked him up bridal style and she and Huey walked back to the makeshift campsite, where Launchpad and an unconscious Dewey still waited. 

Webby set him down, laying down on the jungle floor and rested her head against Louie’s chest, just so that she could feel his steady breathing and hear his constant heartbeat. They sat for minutes or maybe hours, Webby didn’t know or care before, finally, a low sound was heard. 

The constant, rhythmic beat of a helicopter's blades growing ever closer.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you liked this, I've been considering making a series of Loubby one-shots based on one word, so if you want to see that and have an idea for a word I could use as a prompt then leave a kudos and comment with your suggestion!


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